


baby come light me up

by grimmyneutron



Series: close ain't close enough [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: A little angst, Alternate Universe - Hollywood, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Celebrities, F/M, Hollywood AU, a lot of fluff, but here we go!!!!, celebrities AU, i don't know a damn thing about the film industry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 14:53:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14059368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimmyneutron/pseuds/grimmyneutron
Summary: “You better not,” He warned.“Oops,” She smirked, dropping her phone to the ground.He glanced down to see the Instagram home page, Clarke’s brand new post at the top, and then he turned back to her. “You’ve really done it this time.”-Or, Bellamy and Clarke are the most talked about couple in Hollywood.(This is part of my new fic dump series)





	baby come light me up

**Author's Note:**

> This could potentially turn into a fic dump. Idk, I have a lot of half-finished Bellarke AUs but this one somehow got completed?? Probably because I'm avoiding finishing my werewolf au PLEASE DON'T BE MAD. Anyway, inspo for this is the ever-amazing bop "Into You" by pop queen Ariana Grande. 10/10 a banger.

**_October 16, 2015 – RIP Bellarke_ **

E! News _is heartbroken to report that Hollywood’s cutest couple has **SPLIT**._

_Rumors have been circulating for months about the couple’s status after a sudden cease in social media posts between the two, which were frequent over the course of their relationship._

_Fans began to speculate further over the weekend when Friday, Clarke Griffin posted a steamy hot tub photo of her and friend Raven Reyes surrounded by several shirtless men in Malibu with the caption, “Eat your heart out.”_

_The Internet then went into a panic when, approximately 10 minutes after the photo was posted, Bellamy Blake unfollowed Griffin on Instagram and Twitter. Ouch._

_Reps from both parties have not returned E!’s request for comments. Sources close to the stars, however, claim the split was a long time coming:_

_“They’ve been on opposite schedules for a while. Relationships are hard work. It’s even harder when you’re 500 miles apart for months at a time.”_

_“I don’t think anyone is surprised, except maybe the two of them,” Another source added. “They both tried their hardest.”_

_So basically love is dead and life is meaningless. RIP Bellarke. As we mourn the death of our favorite Hollywood power couple, let’s take a stroll down memory lane._

_Click **HERE** for a timeline of Bellamy and Clarke’s relationship._

-

“That _bastard,_ ” Clarke choked, chucking her phone to the other end of the sofa.

It slapped against Raven’s foot and her friend groaned. “Give it a rest, will you?”

“He unfollowed me on Instagram. And Twitter.”

“Wasn't that your goal?"

"No," Clarke huffed, not sure what her goal was.

Raven sighed. "This has to be the most confusing break-up of all time.”

Clarke moaned, sliding deeper into the throw blanket she had cocooned herself in an hour earlier when they’d both woken up with raging hangovers.

Truthfully, last night hadn’t even been that fun. Kendall was insistent they go out after the Dior show, to some party at some beach house of one of her model friends. And her model friend had been _hot;_ tall and dark with a few freckles scattered across his nose. (Yeah, Clarke had a type, okay?)

His friends had been hot too. And it was chilly for California that night, so they’d jumped in the hot tub. Raven had snapped a pic before Clarke could dispute, and drunk Clarke thought it was a _great_ idea to post the photo immediately.

“He’s gonna die when he sees it,” Kendall had snorted, drunk and flying on the pills she’d taken earlier even though Clarke had shot her a look (“ _Chill, mom. Am I not allowed to have fun every once in a while?”_ ).

Clarke had laughed too, because she was also drunk, and it was  _payback_ for what he'd done just days earlier, but then she ended up slumped against the railing on the deck talking about _him_ to some model who kept tugging on the ties of her bikini top.

“Sorry about your man,” The girl had said, leaning in to suck on her neck. “Sound like you guys had been done for a while though.”

Clarke had pushed her away, peeled Raven off some Nigerian model she’d been talking to all night, and left. If she cried herself to sleep, then that was her business.

-

**_ THE E! NEWS OFFICIAL BELLARKE TIMELINE _ **

**June 2, 2012** _**–** Then 21-year-old Clarke Griffin to star opposite Canadian actor 24-year-old Bellamy Blake in the Christopher Nolan directed film _ Mount Weather.

“Somebody get Blake’s agent on the phone,” Marcus Kane snarled at the first table read.

Clarke sat hunched in her chair, picking at her cuticles. She glared at the empty chair beside her, at the nametag labeled _Bellamy Blake,_ and thought _whoever this guy is, fuck him._ Christopher Nolan himself had sought her out for this role; she couldn’t even chalk landing it up to her famous dead father. Which was why she decided that when her male co-star walked into the room, she would shove her foot so far up his ass he’d choke on her big toe.

“Can we start without him?” She asked aloud.

Kane shot her a look that said, _If your father wasn’t my oldest friend and if you weren’t Hollywood’s Golden Child, I’d kill you._

“ _What?”_ She replied.

A couple of the ACs giggled, and Nolan seethed in his seat at the head of the table. After five minutes of silence, staring at the clock, and one very hushed, furious-sounding phone call, Kane announced that they could begin, and Nolan stood up to address everyone.

Just as Nolan was handing things off to his executive producer and Kane opened his mouth, the conference room doors swung open dramatically.

Bellamy Blake strolled in, at least having the decency to look sheepish, save for the stupid grin on his face. He wore glasses, a faded t-shirt with the _Ghostbusters_ logo on it and dark jeans slung low on his hips. A girl in a pantsuit walked in behind him, mouthing apologies to everyone while simultaneously typing furiously into her Blackberry.

Blake dropped unceremoniously into the empty chair beside Clarke and grinned at her, wide and open.

“Sorry,” He said to no one in particular. “Traffic.”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed her already highlighted and annotated script off the table. “ _Now_ can we start?” She asked to everyone except Blake.

Kane groaned, Nolan looked positively murderous, and Blake’s grin widened, if possible.

“I thought everyone showed up late to these things,” He said to her conspiratorially as Kane began crew introductions.

“Just you, actually,” Clarke snapped back, not looking away from the DP who began introducing the camera department.

“Well, at least I made an entrance,” He whispered a little too close to her ear. “How’d you land this gig, Princess?”

She leaned away and finally made eye contact with him. It was just as she feared; he was every bit as handsome as he was in the magazines. But she would not be distracted or deterred by looks. Clarke was here to _work,_ to honor her father’s name, and to one day win an Oscar.

She took a breath and said, very quietly and firmly:

“I don’t know what you think this is or what you’re doing, but don’t make any mistakes. This isn’t _The CW_ or whatever backwoods network you crawled out from underneath; this is a Nolan script ripe and ready for awards season, and I won’t let _you_ ruin that for anyone, especially me. Got it?”

Bellamy leaned backwards as if she’d physically struck him. His smile had dissipated into a scowl that contorted his whole face. “Got it,” He echoed, shoving his glasses further up his nose.

They didn’t speak for the rest of the meeting, and Clarke only considered walking out of the reading once, when Bellamy winked at her as they read through the sex scene. She opted instead to kick him hard under the table. Overall, she considered it a success.

 ** _November 16, 2012_** _– Pictures emerge from set for_ Mount Weather _in New Zealand. Photos show the two getting cozy during a shoot in a cave. Whether this was for the film or the pair are actually friendly is unknown._

It was 8 degrees outside, and Clarke was sure her nipples were going to fall off. She pulled the hood of the puffy parka over her head as her make-up artist did her best to make Clarke look “flushed from the cold,” not that she needed much help considering it was well-below _freezing_ outside.

Bellamy Blake, for his part, was looking equally miserable. From his filmography, Clarke knew this was not his first PG-13 sex scene. But it was hers. She knew everyone on set knew it too, and she hated it.

Once the grips finished and the stand-ins left, and Nolan called to clear the set, she knew it was time. Under the parka, she was nude, except for a pair of smooth, flesh-colored panties.

Bellamy came to stand beside her, throwing an arm over her shoulder. “Nervous?” He asked quietly.

“I’ve seen your dick,” She said, referencing the time two weeks ago that she hadn’t knocked on his trailer door before coming in. “This will be nothing.”

She did not _hate_ Bellamy Blake as much as she anticipated. He was actually very professional, and the entire crew adored him. Somehow he’d won them over by the second day of shoots, and he seemed to know every single person by name, even the stand-ins and the interns.

He didn’t impress Clarke until the third day of shooting, when they’d done the same fucking scene sixteen times, and Nolan still wasn’t satisfied with Clarke’s _face_. She was about to lose her goddamn mind, and in fact, got in a yelling match with Kane about the lighting. But Bellamy never once flinched, never lost patience, did the scene with exactly as much enthusiasm on the 22 nd take as he had on the second.

When they finally, finally got it, Clarke felt tears of relief and embarrassment spring to her eyes because they’d been on set for eighteen hours and the entire crew probably hated her.

Bellamy had elbowed her gently in the side as they walked to their trailers. “Nice work,” He said, sounding so genuine that she had to look up at him to make sure. He had been smiling.

Now, she was naked on her back on a sleeping bag in an actual fucking cave, and Bellamy Blake was kneeling between her legs listening to Christopher Nolan describe what he wanted for the scene.

Kane called for quiet on set, and the assistant hit the clapboard. Clarke breathed, embodying her character, shifting into Emma, the archaeologist who spent her life’s work studying indigenous peoples in cold regions, who up until this point in their treacherous journey, had hated her mountain guide Collin even though he was charming and smart and nothing but helpful.

Nolan called action, and Bellamy fell forward from his knees, his hands placed on either side of her head as he leaned over her.

“Body heat,” She said firmly, running a hand down his – Collin’s - chest.

He sucked in a breath and leaned down towards her. “Body heat,” He echoed against her lips, and then they were kissing. He was a good kisser, and she was so glad.

They had good chemistry, she knew, but as he thrust up between her legs with the stupid little sock over his dick, she had to fight back laughter. She was doing pretty well, too, until they made eye contact again. It was Bellamy who cracked first, snorting into her shoulder as he fell against her.

Nolan huffed and yelled cut. “Are you going to be children or be actors?” He said as the two ACs laughed.

“Sorry, sorry,” Bellamy said over his shoulder, and then he shot a glare down at Clarke that didn’t have any malice behind it. “Your fault,” He mouthed, and she laughed into her hand.

The whole shoot lasted maybe another forty-five minutes, and they only needed a few takes. Nolan seemed pleased with the frames, telling them both excellent work as they yanked on their coats.

“Nice sock,” She said conspiratorially as Bellamy shrugged on his coat.

He laughed out loud and leaned in, “Nice tits.”

She punched him so hard that Kane yelled at her from across set.

 ** _October 8, 2013_** _– The press tour for_ Mount Weather _officially begins. In an interview with Entertainment Weekly, Griffin and Blake get into a heated argument on-camera about how Clarke’s character Emma would feel about the current U.S. political climate. The interviewer asks, “Do you two feel like you share the same chemistry that Emma and Collin do in the film?” Both actors vehemently deny the claim, Blake claiming they are “Too different,” while Griffin adds, “Like oil and water.”_

 **October 22, 2013** _– Griffin walks off the set of an interview when questions were asked about her mother and her late father, producer Jake Griffin. Blake declines finishing out the interview without her._

"She's way more talented than I am," Bellamy said with a laugh. "But she's my only family, so I have to control my jealousy."

Angie laughed politely. “Speaking of family, Clarke, your father was the late, great Jake Griffin. He’s known for working most closely with the likes of Steven Spielberg and even Hitchcock once. What’s it like working with the knowledge of his legacy in Hollywood?”

Clarke bristled. Beside her, she could feel Bellamy shift uneasily, gently bumping his knee into hers. She ignored him and pinned the interviewer, Angie, with the coldest stare she knew. “It’s an honor. Acting is my passion, and I know my father would be thrilled to see where I am today.”

“And your mother? Rumors say you two aren’t on speaking terms.”

Bellamy made a low sound in his throat that sounded like dread.

“Thanks for your time,” Clarke said icily, on her feet quickly, ripping off her mic. “This interview is over.”

“Miss Griffin –“

The tension on set was palpable, and Clarke’s heart was in her throat as she stalked to her dressing room because _she just walked off a Entertainment Weekly interview holy fucking shit –_

“Clarke!”

The voice did not belong to Zoe, her assistant, but Bellamy. He jogged down the hallway toward her, and if he noticed she slowed her pace a little to let him catch up, he didn’t comment on it.

“I’ll have Zoe issue a statement for me,” She said quickly. “I’m sorry to do that to you.”

He was suddenly in her personal space, and she felt her bottom lip quiver. “It'll be fine,” Her voice cracked. “I'm sure they won't air it."

“Hey, _hey,_ ” He said softly, bumping her chin lightly with his thumb. “Don’t apologize. I know that topic was on your blacklist. Angie’s a bitch anyway.”

“God, I know,” She huffed a pathetic sounding laugh. “Maybe they won’t run the interview.”

“I hope they do,” He said, smiling.

She rolled her eyes and stepped back, away from his touch, and cleared her throat. “Thanks. I should -”

“You wanna go back to the hotel and order pizza?”

She blinked at him, unable to hide her surprise. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

 ** _November 1, 2013_** _– The NYC premiere of_ Mount Weather _sees Griffin and Blake arrive separately to the red carpet. Blake escorts his younger sister, Octavia Blake, star of the HBO series_ The Cure _. B. Blake and Griffin engage in possibly malicious / possibly playful banter during several red carpet interviews._

The after-party was at a large private home not far from the theater. Octavia ducked out early, heading off to a club with some of her co-stars for a publicity gig. Clarke, for her part, stuck to his side like glue, and he was really grateful. Sure, he had recently become what the magazines would call a “heartthrob,” but he didn’t quite have this part of the gig figured out: navigating red carpets, engaging with famous directors and producers he’d dreamed about meeting as a kid.

Clarke knew them all. She smiled, flirted, looked every bit the beautiful Hollywood princess she was. Her navy blue dress clung to every part of her, sparkling and catching the light, her hair swept back in a slick, elegant bun. He’d seen Clarke naked, but he was definitely partial Clarke in a ball gown too.

In the past month or so of press conferences, plane rides and interviews, he came to the conclusion that he had it bad for Clarke Griffin, which was all-around a terrible realization to have.

See, the thing about co-starring in a romantic drama with somebody is that people expect a certain amount of truth to be behind the characters. Their characters, Collin and Emma, begrudgingly fell for each other in the middle of a disastrous mountain trip through arguments peppered with flirtation and the trust building that comes with being stranded on the side of a mountain together.

People expected Bellamy and Clarke to act accordingly. So, it was really just pure torture every time Clarke beamed at him, or swatted his arm playfully when he said something cheekily, or gave him a mischievous look that implied she wanted to jump his bones. Because really, it was all for the cameras. They were actors, after all.

Tonight was no different. Clarke would rest a hand on his arm, lean into his side, smile up at him while he talked; she even laughed at one of his awful jokes.

“I need a break. You talk too much,” She teased after they’d talked to the _DailyMail_ reporter for the third time.

“I do love the sound of my own voice,” He replied, elbowing her. “But so do droves of women across America who have posters of me on their wall.”

She scowled. “Oh god, don’t make me rethink showing you this.”

“Show me what?”

He let her grab his hand, lead him past the bathroom down a hallway and up a secret flight of stairs. She swung the door open at the top to reveal a small rooftop balcony that overlooked Manhattan.

“If you wanted to off me, throwing me from a balcony is a little cliché,” He said.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t let go of his hand. “My dad took me up here once, during one of the after parties for a movie he produced. He said it was our secret.”

She was smiling now, out at the city lights. When she looked back at him, he wanted to kiss her.

“Remind me to never tell you a secret,” He chided as she stepped closer with a tug from his hand in hers.

“Do you have to ruin _every_ moment?”

He opened his mouth, about to tell her off, when she closed the distance between them.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t already kissed her. He’d kissed her a lot; probably more than any of his actual significant others in the past. Honestly, Nolan made them run some of their intimate scenes upwards of fifty times, so he was pretty familiar with Clarke’s mouth.

But nothing prepared him for _Clarke’s mouth._ It opened under his, warm and soft and unhurried, and he wondered just how much she’d been holding back on set. Apparently, a lot, because one flick of her tongue against his lips set his groin on fire.

He wasted no time in dropping her hand to instead grab her waist and pull her closer. Distantly, a siren wailed, and they broke apart. She grinned at him, open and honest, and couldn’t think of any way to ruin _this_ moment.

 ** _November 10, 2013_** _– Griffin and Blake arrive separately to the L.A. premiere. On the carpet, they both again deny rumors they are together, Blake quoted saying, “You can’t shoot naked in below freezing weather with someone and_ not _become close friends.”_

 ** _January 7, 2014_** _– Griffin and Blake arrive_ together _to the 71 st annual Golden Globe Awards but walk the red carpet separately. The duo sits together during the awards with producer Marcus Kane and writer/director Christopher Nolan. Griffin is nominated for Best Actress in a Motion Picture Drama but ultimately loses out to Cate Blanchett for her performance in _Blue Jasmine ( _dir_. _Woody Allen)._

 ** _February 21, 2014 –_** _Griffin and Blake once again arrive together to the red carpet for the 85 th annual Academy Awards. The “are they or aren’t they” pair walks the carpet together, Griffin dazzling in a custom-made Versace gown and Blake melting hearts in a midnight blue Armani tux. Both stars decline red carpet interviews. During the show, host Seth MacFarlane gives a nod to Griffin’s performance in _Mount Weather, _despite her not being nominated for Best Actress. MacFarlane also makes a crack at the steamy cave scene from the film, and Griffin hides her face in Blake’s shoulder on a camera close-up._ Mount Weather _takes home Best Original Score -Hans Zimmer and Best Directing – Christopher Nolan._

 ** _February 22, 2014_** _– Videos surface of Griffin and Blake dancing together at the_ Vanity Fair _Oscars after-party. Reps from both camps do not respond to requests for comments._

 **_May 22, 2014_ ** _– While in Arizona filming her upcoming movie, Griffin posts an Instagram photo taken in the reflection of a pair of blue Ray Ban sunglasses. Fans speculate the sunglasses wearer is Bellamy Blake due to the few freckles visible on the wearer’s nose. Two days later Blake poses with fans at the Grand Canyon, further supporting claims that he was visiting Griffin on set._

“They’re gonna know it’s me,” Bellamy grumbled into the lip of his beer bottle.

They were stretched out on opposite ends of the couch in Clarke’s hotel room, their legs intertwined, watching the sunset through the open balcony doors.

“I don’t have to post it,” Clarke said, looking up at him over her phone. “If you’re not ready.”

“I just don’t get why everyone has to know our business,” He said, shrugging. The second they came out publicly, things were going to change. Sneaking around with Clarke had been… exhilarating.

“I don’t get why it has to be a secret,” She huffed. “Don’t you want to be able to go out to dinner together? To a real restaurant?”

“And have paps hound us the entire time?” He asked. “Sounds splendid.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “I’m posting the picture.”

He grabbed her ankle. “Don’t you dare.”

“Caption or no caption?” She asked, already smiling.

“ _Clarke._ ”

“You’re right, no caption is much more cryptic. Keeps ‘em guessing.”

He yanked on her ankle so she slid down the couch, and he was on top of her in a second. “You better not,” He warned.

“Oops,” She smirked, dropping her phone to the ground.

He glanced down to see the Instagram home page, Clarke’s brand new post at the top, and then he turned back to her. “You’ve really done it this time.”

Clarke squealed with laughter as he tickled her sides mercilessly. “I surrender!” She shrieked at last, flushed and panting, looking so beautiful he couldn’t do anything but kiss her.

 **_June 2, 2014_ ** _– Blake posts an Instagram photo of Griffin sitting across the table from him holding up a large pint of beer with the caption, “Cheers to meeting this pain in my ass two years ago today. @mtweathermovie”_

 **_July 4, 2014_ ** _– Griffin posts a photo of Independence Day fireworks over Lake Tahoe. Near the bottom of the photo are two intertwined pairs of legs propped on what appears to be a deck railing. The photo is captioned, “It’s the American way @bellamyblake.”_

 ** _September 5, 2014_** _– Griffin sits for an interview with co-star Miles Teller for their new movie_ Starfall _. The interviewer asks if Blake and Griffin are dating, and Griffin slaps her hands over her face for a moment. Then, she admits, “Maybe.” Fans officially dub the duo “Bellarke.”_

 **_September 20, 2014_ ** _– Griffin posts a photo of her with her lips pressed to Blake’s cheek with the caption, “Happy birthday ya old fart.” Blake is wearing a party hat, smiling, with a kazoo hanging lopsidedly out of his mouth._

 **_December 24, 2014 –_ ** _Blake posts a photo to his Instagram of Griffin and his sister, Octavia Blake, posed in matching footie pajamas in front of a massive Christmas tree. The caption reads, “My two best girls. Merry Christmas all, xx.”_

 **_January 10, 2015_ ** _– Blake and Griffin attend the 72 nd annual Golden Globes, walking the carpet together. While letting Griffin pose solo for the cameras, Blake talks to E! News correspondent Alicia Quarles. “Is she distracting you?” Quarles teases when Blake glances at his girlfriend for the third time. Blake grins and replies, “Can you blame me?” _

**_March 22, 2015 –_ ** _Blake and Griffin pose with fans outside a coffee shop in downtown LA. The couple laughs with fans about their couple name, Bellarke. “I guess it's better than Biffin. Or Clellamy,” Griffin says on a video posted by Twitter user @YatallyNatalie._

 ** _April 3, 2015 –_** _Blake begins filming his new movie,_ Titus Andronicus, _in Athens, Greece._

 **_May 8, 2015 –_ ** _Blake and Griffin spend a weekend in Mykonos, Greece during filming. The pair are spotted cozying up on the balcony of their condo. (See more steamy pics from their trip **here** ). _

**_May 22, 2015 –_** _Griffin begins filming for the new_ X-Men _movie back in the U.S._

 **_June 30, 2015 –_ ** _Griffin posts an Instagram photo of her resting her head on Blake’s shoulder, captioned, “Miss you, my love.” Blake comments on the photo, “Counting the days, xx.” Fans are quick to fawn over the comment, which garners 15,562 likes._

“I miss you so much,” She choked out, pressing the phone closer to her ear. “Can you get away for even a weekend?”

“Babe…” He sounded so tired, so, so exhausted, and she knew it was because Luhrmann was a fucking slave-driver. This movie was the hardest thing Bellamy had ever done, and she wanted to be proud of him but she just wanted him home.

“I can meet you in New York. That’s like, what, an eight hour flight for you?” She was really trying not to cry; she hated how desperate she sounded.

“We’re shooting through the weekend,” He said.

“Right,” She said coldly, trying to match his detached tone. “Fine. I’ll talk to you next week or something.

“Clarke, don’t do that, please,” Bellamy sighed. “I miss you just as much, you know.”

“Clearly,” She snapped. “It’s fine. I have to go.”

“Babe, wait –“

“Bye,” She quickly hung up the phone and wiped her eyes, just as Zoe kicked open the door.

“We start shooting in 2 –“ Her assistant stopped abruptly.

“You ever hear of knocking?” Clarke snapped. Then she groaned. “Sorry, yeah, okay.”

“Bellamy?” Zoe said, sounding sympathetic. “You know, I could book a flight to New York for you if you want.”

“No, thanks though.”

Zoe pulled a face. “Okay. Do you need another few minutes? I can get one of the PAs to fuck something up, buy you a little time?”

Clarke smiled as she blinked back more tears. She really did not deserve an assistant like Zoe. “No, no I’m good.”

“Hey,” Zoe said, already reaching with a tissue to dab at Clarke’s eyes. God, the bitch was _too good._ “Relationships are fucking hard.”

“Yeah,” Clarke said, looking to the ceiling as Zoe wiped under her eyes. “They fucking are.”

 ** _September 20, 2015 –_** _After over a month of silence and seemingly hiding out, Blake is spotted leaving a club in Hollywood with_ Titus Andronicus _co-star Roma Panopoulos, sparking break-up rumors._

 **Text Message** from **Clarke Griffin** : You fucking dickhead.

Bellamy stared at the message for a long time. It was the first message he’d gotten from Clarke in over a week. The link she’d attached to the message was an E! News article, complete with pap pictures of Roma and him leaving a club together. The news outlets didn’t waste any fucking time, did they?

He sat up in bed, fighting the pounding headache his hangover had brought on. On his bedside table was a glass of water and several small pills he knew to be Advil. A post-it was stuck to the water glass.

_Have these and a shower. You smell sad._

  * _R_



He rolled his eyes, but he supposed she was right. He _was_ sad, all the damn time. It was actually super pathetic. He looked back to his phone and sighed, tapping Clarke’s name. It rang twice, and then,

“What.”

She sounded so far away from him already.

“Roma’s a friend,” He said.

“I don’t want to do this,” Her voice was raspy, as if she hadn’t slept well. He knew she was filming nights for the _X-Men_ reshoot, but he didn’t know she was run this ragged.

“Then why’d you text me?” He demanded. “If you didn’t want me to call, you could’ve just left it alone.”

Silence.

“Clarke,” He said firmly, a little desperately.

“I don’t want to do this _anymore_ ,” She said after a beat, as if clarifying. “I’m done.”

His ears began ringing, and he could feel his heartbeat in his throat. He tried to swallow it down. “Babe, don’t. Come on.”

“I’m sorry.”

“My press tour isn’t for another month. You should be wrapping up next week. We’ll both be in LA if we can just hold out –“

“I can’t,” Her voice was softer. “I’m tired. Please, aren’t you tired?”

“Yes,” He admitted after a while, after he thought she might’ve hung up. “I guess I am.”

 ** _October 16, 2015_** _– Griffin poses in a hot tub with several male models after the_ Dior _fashion show during LA Fashion Week. Blake, on his press tour for_ Titus Andronicus, _unfollows Griffin on Instagram and Twitter, confirming at last that the couple has split._

Somebody knocked on the door to her apartment, which was all at once annoying and terrifying since her doorman always called her to alert her of any guests. She thought about calling the police, but in the end, she used the peephole.

Bellamy banged on the door again, and Clarke almost passed out.

She swung the door open. “ _What_ are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in Chicago?”

“ _Eat your heart out?_ ” Bellamy mocked, stepping inside her apartment so quickly that she had to stumble back a step to avoid bumping into him.

“Oh, fuck you,” Clarke said. “Run off to your little Greek girlfriend.”

“ _You’re_ my girlfriend,” He snapped.

“Not last I checked,” She snorted, trying to fend off the feelings bubbling up in her chest. She hadn’t seen him in almost two months, and god, he looked _good._ Tired, but good. Shit, She missed him.

“ _You_ hung up on _me,_ ” Bellamy said. “Are we done? Is this it, Clarke?”

He said it so effortlessly, as if he could just take her answer and leave, it made her nauseous. She closed her eyes to fight it, and when she opened them, he was looking at her, his eyes glassy.

“Clarke,” He said again, and his voice actually broke.

“How did you even get up here?” She blurted suddenly.

He blinked, clearly confused. Then, his lips twitched. “I bribed Ken. Said it was an emergency.”

“Dodgers tickets?” She guessed.

“Dodgers tickets,” He echoed. “Clarke…”

“I don’t want this to be it,” She said, stepping towards him. “I’m not done.”

“Me neither,” He said quickly, grabbing her hands. He pulled them up to his chest and squeezed them. “I never wanted that for a second.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer your calls,” She bit her lip. “I’m just sorry, honestly.”

“Me too,” He said, leaning down so their foreheads were pressed together.

She inhaled his scent, relishing it after months away from him. “I love you.”

He kissed her, and when he said the words, they practically came out as a sigh. “I love you too.”

“You sound relieved,” She said against his lips.

He had moved on from her mouth, peppering kisses down her jaw and her neck. “God, I am. I missed you. You have no idea.”

She gasped when he nibbled at the sensitive spot just below her ear and tangled her fingers in his hair and _tugged._ He followed her orders and brought his attention to her lips once again, slanting his mouth over hers. When their tongues met, he groaned, and the sound gave her goose bumps.

He walked them backwards to the couch, cupping her breasts over her shirt with his hands.

“Bedroom,” Clarke gasped into his mouth when he tried to push her down onto the couch.

He groaned and scooped her up into his arms, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he all but ran them to her bedroom. He tossed her onto the bed and was on her in a second, pressing his knee between her thighs and swallowing her moan with his mouth.

Bellamy undressed her slowly, paying special attention to each newly exposed stretch of skin. He always did this, made her feel worshipped, like each time he got to touch her was a gift he needed to treasure. She never tired of it.

When he entered her, she felt the word hit her: _home._ He pressed into her, again and again, until she fell apart with his name on her lips. He wasn’t far behind.

They lay still for a long time, staring at each other unashamedly. Truthfully, she was drinking him in. Every freckle and scratch and piece of tan skin she hadn’t been able to see or touch in months.

He traced the curve of her hip over and over with his fingertips, each time sending goosebumps scattering across her skin. He kissed her gently, and she smiled at him.

“Are you going to follow me back on Instagram now?”

He groaned and shoved her off his chest as she laughed. “Do you have to ruin _every_ moment? He mocked, but he grabbed his phone from his discarded pants anyway.

**_October 18, 2015 – Bellarke Reunion?_ **

_Fans were quick to notice that early this morning, Bellamy Blake re-followed Clarke Griffin on Instagram. Blake was later spotted leaving Griffin’s apartment complex and returning with Starbucks breakfast, so all we have to say is… LOVE ISN’T DEAD._

_Click **HERE** to see E!’s favorite pics of Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin from the red carpet in 2015. _


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